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“Not closing the door on your relationship with your beloved Svetlana would be a deal breaker, my darling, on our own upcoming nuptials.”
“Well, viewed from that perspective, the idea of going over to the Grand Cozumel does have great appeal.”
“Well then, my precious, put your trousers on. The last time I saw them they were hanging from the chandelier.”
“There’s something I didn’t tell you about Colonel Castillo, my precious.”
“Which is?”
“There are twenty-four members of the Cuban DGI—the Cuban version of the SVR—here in Cozumel under orders to whack Castillo.”
“And these people are likely to be at the Grand Cozumel? Is that what you’re saying?”
“At the moment, they’re engaged in cleaning the ladies’ rooms on the Czari
na of the Gulf, the cruise ship. But they should be about finished, and when they are, they’ll go looking for Castillo.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, my darling. Now go put your pants on while I repair my makeup.”
“You’re going with me to the Grand Cozumel?”
“I want to be there, my precious, when you finally close the door on your Svetlana. To be sure there’s no mistake, no misunderstanding.”
[FOUR]
The Grand Lobby and Reception Hall
The Grand Cozumel Beach & Golf Resort
Cozumel, Mexico
2110 21 June 2007
Hiding behind two of the larger potted palms in the lobby when the Archbishop Valentin and the Archimandrite Boris made their spectacular—one might even say regal—entrance were Mr. C. Harry Whelan and Mr. Matthew “Hockey Puck” Christian.
They had been traveling together since they had met at the White House gate earlier in the day, immediately after Mr. Roscoe J. Danton had been pushed out of the Yukon in which he had traveled from the Old Ebbitt to meet with President Clendennen.
Although they normally loathed one another, the situation here dictated a truce between them. C. Harry was determined to find out, and damn the cost of finding out, what Roscoe was doing with the President and the reason behind the porn queen throwing the French paparazzo at Danton in Las Vegas.
Mr. Christian had been told by his superiors at the Continental Broadcasting Corporation that unless he got them out from under the fifty-million-dollar libel suit brought by Miss Red Ravisher for mis-identifying Miss Ravisher as the person who had thrown the French paparazzo at Mr. Danton, he could not only expect to lose the Hockey Puck show, but would work out the balance of his contract doing the midnight weather broadcast over the Continental station in Dry River, North Dakota, where he would have to write his own copy, do without the company-furnished chauffeur-driven Mercedes he had grown used to, and learn to live without an expense account.
C. Harry and Hockey Puck quickly agreed to share whatever information they acquired from their highly placed confidential sources within the White House, no matter how many folded hundred-dollar bills they would have to pass out to these people.
Their plan succeeded. A third assistant botanical superintendent, who was bitter at his low pay of only $96,500 per annum, and happy to get the tax-free C-note, informed C. Harry that while he had been rearranging the white roses on the dining room table in the Very, Very Important Person guest room, he had accidentally happened to overhear the President’s conversation with DCI Lammelle.
He reported that the President had ordered DCI Lammelle to immediately get his ass out to Andrews and get his airplane warmed up. As soon as he could get Roscoe J. Danton sobered up and out there they were to get their asses on the DCI’s airplane and fly to the Grand Cozumel Beach and Golf Resort in Cozumel, Mexico, where they were to make it perfectly clear to Colonel Castillo that the Clendennen administration was not in the business of slaughtering innocent and illiterate Somali teenagers and that he was to immediately cease and desist carrying out any nefarious and criminal plans he had made to do so.
On hearing this, C. Harry told Hockey Puck that he had a line on a Learjet at Baltimore International and was going to fly to Cozumel. He asked Hockey Puck if he wanted to share the ride and the cost.
“Absolutely,” Hockey Puck had immediately replied. “Just make sure you get two original copies of the bill, so that we can both get our respective employers to reimburse us.”
When they got to the Cozumel Beach & Golf Resort, they were told there were no rooms at the inn, unfortunately, as all accommodations were reserved for the upcoming nuptials of the owner’s cousin.
At first this was disappointing, but then they saw a silver lining in the black cloud. For one thing, they were going to have to hang around the lobby anyway as the only thing they could see in their rooms was Mexican television, and for another, another folded C-note got them spurious bills for deluxe suites so they might be later reimbursed by their respective employers.
They took up positions behind potted palms.
The first thing they saw was truly shocking. Both deeply regretted not having charged their cell phones in order to have cameras to record it.
